Of Marathons, Ferrets, and Alternate Universes
by JadeBuohler
Summary: Celeste, Eleanor, and Annabelle couldn't contain their deathly excitement with the new release of Sherlock, Season 4, thus bringing them together for a rather intense Sherlock marathon. However, when something unexplainable happens, they find themselves sucked into the world of 221B Baker Street, Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, and the strenuous conflict of James Moriarty. (OC/Char)
1. Skype Calls

**Yes. I know. I have far too much going on right now, I shouldn't even dream of writing a whole new fic.  
>BUT I MUST.<strong>

**I wasn't going to post this, as this is merely a fun story between my friends, but part of me believes it could be enjoyed. **  
><strong>It has good heart and it's going to be a very action filled, exciting fic. :3<strong>  
><strong>If you like Loki, check out my fic Hidden Within.<br>****If you like Sherlock, check out my fic Redbeard.  
><strong>**Etc, etc, etc.**

**Btw, Celeste is not related to Dean or Sam Winchester. ;)**

_**Please let me know what you think in a review! It will be greatly appreciated!**_

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><p><span><em><strong>Chapter 1: Skype Calls<strong>_

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><p>The sound was excruciating. Absolutely, undeniably, annoying. With no comparison, not one, as to how irritable it actual was.<br>She had always thought so, whenever she used it as a teenager, whether it was studying for school exams, or talking to a parent from across the country.  
>The utterly exasperating rings seemed to suffocate your ears, and hinder your ability to think, clouding your mind with swift insults directed particularly harshly at whomever was calling you.<p>

The Skype call had summoned Celeste Winchester from the depths of her mattress, only receiving a groan because of its rather successful attempt at waking her. She was sprawled out, her long, dirty-blonde hair floating like a puddle around her, and dripping down into her face, which was currently stuffed into the softness of her blue-plaid pillowcase. Her slender figure was tucked securely under the warmth of her sky-colored bed sheets, bearing the words, 'I'm a high-functioning sociopath – do your research' thickly in black contrast.

In her uncomfortable position, and reluctance to budge from the coziness of the patterned blanket she was curled into, she kicked several long-lasting stuffed animals from the edge of her bed. She peeked out from the shadowy fortress of blonde hair to gaze irritably at their slouched manner on the floor, their noses and ears drooping over in an attempt to thoroughly obey gravity.

Celeste sighed, and roughly wiped a hand over her face, squishing her nose upward, and wincing as she accidently poked herself in the eye.  
>She flew upwards upon realizing the Skype call was still blaring, and hurriedly sprang from the sheets that were so entirely tempting.<p>

She nearly tripped over the length of her pajama bottoms, fruitfully covering the entirety of her feet, which were decorated with the faces of Marvel's Avengers; Hulk growling angrily, Thor 'huzzahing' proudly, Iron Man posing epically, and Spiderman looking frankly done-with-life.  
><em>Where Captain America and the others were – she didn't know.<em>

She promptly stumbled toward her small dining room table, which was frankly located in the corner of her kitchen, rather forced into the area because of her lack in apartment space. She noticed her computer screen still open and displayed, revealing the caller.  
>She groaned, shaking her head with a laugh, and clicking <em>'Answer Call'<em>, her finger pushing against the mouse pad attached to the keyboard of her Mac.  
>The call connected, and she could hear the faint rustling on the other line.<p>

Celeste smiled widely, and spun around, heading to search through her kitchen cupboards for her favorite mug, eager to have a cup of tea.

"Are you trying to kill me?" Celeste sighed contently, giggling to herself as her friend's laughter bustled through the connection.

She tapped the small, blue button of the kettle, hearing the water begin to heat, and then swiftly turned to face her computer, revealing her grinning friend on the small pop-up image.

"Hello there, Bella." Celeste smirked; preparing her cup for the water that would soon fill it. She smiled, pouring small spoonfuls of sugar into the small mug that read, 'Moriar-tea – that's what people brew', whilst taking glances back at her friend, who was currently trying to correctly position her camera.

"Catch you at a bad time?" Her gentle voice asked politely, even though Celeste was sure it was a tease.

"It's morning." She moaned with a slight nod, "Of course you caught me at a bad time."

Annabelle chuckled, shaking her head on the other end, her long, silky black hair falling gracefully over the darker complexion of her flawless skin.  
>"Celeste Winchester, it's noon! I called because I'm on my break."<p>

"Ugh," Celeste groaned, shrugging as she poured the steaming hot water into her _Sherlock fan-based_ mug she'd gotten a few Christmas' ago. "How _long_ have you been up?"

Bella grinned and sighed in exhaustion at her friend's disgruntled state, "I've been up since five. Work starts at six."

Annabelle Lancaster was the most organized, and dedicated person Celeste had ever met. She was entirely satisfied with having unattainable knowledge in any subject, and just so, she always passed with flying colors in high school, where the two had first met. Freshmen year; the two of them were the quietest students in their whole Cambridge – _a skilled, highly difficult, school program_ – entirety. So, they figured they'd just approach each other, seeing as though they were both shy and had a strong dislike for verbal interaction. Needless to say, they became quite great friends.  
>By junior year, they were constant study-buddies, pressured into a battle of trying to rid their report cards of dreaded Cs that continued to creep up on them. It was around that time that Celeste had introduced Bella to Sherlock, BBC's outstanding work of art. Annabelle Lancaster complied; before she knew it, she was faced with the conflicted emotions that haunt you throughout the entire show, and chew on the heartstrings further connected to your soul.<br>Senior year had been a bunch of fun, meeting new people (yeah, right!), and constantly fantasizing over the show, _that is_ _Sherlock.  
><em>When college came around, Bella left to study medicine and the sciences connected to becoming a doctor, whilst Celeste traveled out to Orlando, eager to work in animation and perhaps grab the opportunity of working for Disney, even though she mostly wished to publish her own books, one of which had already been distributed throughout the United States. Neither left their precious Sunshine State, Florida of course, mostly because of their closeness to family and love for all that is warm and sunny, _most of the time_.

"I don't know how you stand it." Celeste remarked as she grabbed her mug of tea and sat down in front of the computer screen, her blonde hair disheveled and flopping lazily over her hazel eyes.

Bella grinned and winked softly, "I'm doing what I love and getting paid well for it. I'm happy to get up at six."

Celeste chuckled, eagerly taking a sip of the warm, soothing English breakfast tea.

"What about you?" Bella asked enthusiastically, quite intrigued in what was happening with her friend, out in the big, wide world.

Celeste brought the mug back down and shrugged, "I'm alright. Trying to create this new character for a short film."

Bella lit up at her words, "Cool!"

The lazy blonde shrugged again, "I suppose."

Bella narrowed her eyes, "You suppose?"

Celeste nodded, "Yes. You see, somehow, the only thing I've been able to sketch for the character is a pair of shoes. Nothing else is coming to mind."

Annabelle chuckled, shaking her head while she reached for her phone, located in the background of the image, sitting atop a white shelf.  
><em>Most likely in her office,<em> Celeste presumed.  
>The blonde continued to drink her tea, while Bella studied the phone sternly, as if searching for something, and then began typing a few words.<p>

"Who are you texting?" Celeste questioned suspiciously, as she went in for another sip, her words echoing loudly through the rim of the cup.

Bella glanced up at her friend and then back down at the phone. "El. I want to see if she can talk. You think she has work today?"

Celeste shrugged, springing up from her seat at the table and launching herself at the cupboard of goodies in the back of her kitchen.  
>"I don't know. What day is it?"<p>

She asked, causing an outburst of giggles on the other end of the line. "It's Friday, Celeste."

The blonde nodded at her friend and sighed gracefully, revealing a box of 'Lucky Charms' from the secluded shelves of her pantry. She then took her seat again, digging her hand into the cardboard prism and shoving a bunch of marshmallow goodness into her mouth.

"If I remember correctly, she usually has Fridays off." Bella uttered, mostly to herself rather than the image of her friend on the screen of her computer. Suddenly, the piercing sputter of a Skype call filled the ongoing silence once again.  
>Celeste cringed and quickly answered the three-way call, eager to save herself from death-by-ringing.<p>

A box of all that is Eleanor Williams filled the entirety of both Celeste's and Bella's vision.

"My friends!" She exclaimed happily, as if attempting to hug the screen.  
>Bella chuckled at her friend's enthusiasm, whereas Celeste simply groaned in exhaustion.<p>

"Come on, El. It's twelve –" Celeste glanced over her shoulder, still grasping onto the box of cereal, " – twenty-three. How the hell do you have so much energy?"

Eleanor gazed at Celeste blankly and then gave herself a pointed look, "Uh, Libra." She shrugged, referring to her horoscope.

Bella giggled and nodded, "And what is it for us today?"

Both were Libra's, and they acted like it.  
>As Celeste has heard Eleanor say a few times too many: <em>Libras love excitement, new situations, adventure and the unusual. They make friends with people from all walks of life and they are always up to something new and exciting with enthusiasm. Libras are great at getting along with people <em>_– __everyone likes a Libra. They are all about partnerships and groups __– __they are the glue that holds a group together because they are the ones responsible for keeping harmony and peace. Libras have mastered the art of relationships, not just romantic but business, personal, and family relationships just to name a few. No one is able to see another person's point of view better then a Libra.  
><em>Libras, libras, libras.

But Celeste loved her for it; of course. How could she not?  
>Eleanor was one of the most enthusiastic chicks Celeste, and Bella, had ever met. They, too, had met in high school, sophomore year. It was a funny story, as well. The teacher had gotten Celeste's name wrong from the start, and it ultimately led Eleanor to her, in an odd, somewhat confusing way.<br>Then Bella and El had been introduced, and _voila_ – their friendship sprouted beautifully.  
>Eleanor split as well, when they graduated, eager to get out of little, old Lehigh Acres, and become an Optometrist – basically, an eye doctor.<br>Celeste felt a little undereducated around the two, seeing as though she merely went into art and journalism after high school, but the two of them were great and never critical when it came to knowledge of others.

Eleanor proceeded to reading both her own and Bella's horoscope for the day.

"Your big ideas are making life a lot sweeter today — and they're worth exploring further. Your great energy is making life more interesting for those around you, too, so throw a party to celebrate."

Bella clapped both hands at this, terribly ecstatic. "That's on point!"

The exclamation was followed with Eleanor's small remark, _"Swag daddy."_

Celeste rolled her eyes, "What do you mean _on point_, Bells?"

Annabelle grinned and shrugged, "Well, we're still on for tomorrow, are we not?"

Celeste formed an 'o' with her lips and nodded.

She'd forgotten; both Eleanor and Bella were driving down together from Fort Myers to visit Celeste for a day or two – most likely two – because of the recent release of _Sherlock_, season four. The three of them had promised one another that they **WOULD NOT** watch Sherlock until they could all watch it together. Needless to say, Celeste had been growing highly impatient – knees jiggling when she sat still, hands shaking restlessly, nails bitten in visible stress.

As if Bella could read her mind, she spoke softly through their Skype connection, "I am so excited. I've literally already packed my bag."

Eleanor chuckled and nodded, swirling in a circle on her black, wheeled chair, most likely sitting at home in her study. "You got the popcorn?"

Bella grinned widely, her expression glowing in the brightness of her white office. "Yes, ma'am, all ten bags. You got the margarita mix?"

Eleanor 'pshhed' the camera and lifted her hands in the air, "Could you ever doubt me?"

Celeste scoffed and shook her head, "Not when it comes to alcohol."

Eleanor smacked her computer screen in an attempt to abuse Celeste through the connection, and both Celeste and Bella busted into giggle fits.

El smirked and flicked her chin toward the camera, her light, bright blonde, curly hair shimmering as it bounced on her head, "You got the discs?"

Celeste grinned, rose from her seat, dropping her cereal box beside her computer, and rushed over to grab a small, flat case off the living room coffee table.  
>She then reappeared in front of the camera, and lifted the object so that it could be clearly seen.<br>Both of her friends lit up in excitement, staring wide-eyed at the beautiful product, balancing gently on Celeste's pale hands. It shimmered in the little amount of light shining in through her window, causing the merchandise to glow.  
>Both Sherlock and John appeared quite elegant, and wholeheartedly, deadly attractive on the case in front of her.<p>

Celeste brought it to her chest, hugging it carefully, and smiling widely, eager to quote _Lord of the Rings_.  
>"My <em>precious<em>." She purred, and both girls on her computer screen laughed.

Eleanor spun happily in her chair once more, "Thank the gods!"

Celeste nodded with a few immensely pleased chuckles, and then watched as Bella quickly checked the time, finding it hard to focus through her own laughter. "Crap, guys I've got to go. Break's done." She shrugged, still giggling, which caused her to throw a hand over her mouth as she began to hiccup.

El bit her lip and bobbed her head up and down in acknowledgement, while Celeste mirrored the action.

"We'll all see each other tomorrow, then?" Celeste questioned, with a pleasant grin.

Annabelle turned to Celeste and gracefully nodded.  
>"Yes, ma'am! I'll pick up El, and then head to you – just text me your address. I'm going to try to be there around three-ish, four-ish."<p>

Celeste smirked in content, and watched as Bella waved a small goodbye.

"Can't wait to see you two!" Eleanor remarked, waving as well.

Celeste placed her palms on her cheeks, blushing in agreement. "Bye, guys."

They both returned the farewell gesture, and Celeste steadily closed her laptop screen.


	2. Inevitable Flashes

**Anybody mind shooting me a review? :3  
><strong>Just to let me know what you think. ;)  
><strong>Enjoy, things are getting trippy...mannnn. <strong>

**All the best!  
>-JB<strong>

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><p><span><em><strong>Chapter 2: Inevitable Flashes<strong>_

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><p>"Nope. Nope. Hell nope."<br>Eleanor groaned as she searched endlessly through her closet, clothes flying to the floor in an attempt to make her carpet thoroughly disappear.

"I thought you packed last night." The soft voice whistled through the speaker of her phone, partially laughing and partially growling.

Eleanor sighed and shook her head, "We can't all be as organized as you, Bella." She teased and removed a white t-shirt she had found online not to long ago, immediately making her mind up when she was reminded of its greatness. It was simply plain, with the most hilarious artwork, smack dab in the middle: _Hagrid_, from _Harry Potter_, wearing bling, sunglasses, and a fur coat; the quotation underneath? – "_Swagrid_".  
>Needless to say, it was one of Eleanor's favorite shirts.<p>

"How far away are you?" El asked excitedly, staring down at her chosen outfit, and beginning to remove the pajamas she currently wore.

"Not very far." Eleanor could practically hear Bella smiling through the phone, just as her doorbell sounded, echoing through her rather large abode.  
>The curly-haired blonde busted into a bellowing laugh, hung up the phone, threw on her shirt, tugged on her blue jeans, and sprinted towards her front door. She grabbed the handle, swinging it open to reveal a rather "decked-out" Annabelle Lancaster, grinning widely as she took notice of her friend.<p>

"Long time no see!" Bella exclaimed and threw her arms around Eleanor, pulling her into a tight, pleasant embrace.

The bright blonde smirked when they drew back, staring with wide-eyes at the woman before her.  
>"Look at you!" She boasted and nodded, surprised with the sight before her.<p>

Bella wore a rather fancy, black skirt, which came up to secure her tucked in white, dress shirt, its sleeves reaching just at her elbows, and making good use at shaping her torso. She had black, shimmering glasses on top of her charcoal colored hair, which hung down in straight strands, curling inward, and stretched down to her chest. Her dark brown eyes were made to pop against her darker complexion, and her lips glowed the faintest bright red. Not to mention, the adorable black heels she currently wore on her 'Cinderella' sized feet.

"You look like you have a business meeting." Eleanor teased, with a wide grin, "Do you?" She added and Bella smacked her on the shoulder.

"I wanted to look presentable. We haven't seen Celeste, in person, since senior year." The dark-haired girl shrugged with a petite smile.

El chuckled and bobbed her head up and down, her eyes widening as she stared down at her own outfit. "Does that mean I should change?"

Annabelle busted into a giggle fit, and shook her head, "No, I'm sure Celeste has missed your humor."  
>They both laughed, simultaneously glancing down at her rather odd, and vulgar designed t-shirt.<p>

"Hey, at least you're wearing a bra this time." Bella mocked, sticking her tongue out playfully.  
>Eleanor gaped and shook her head in embarrassment, however unable to hold back the laughter breaking her stubborn features.<p>

That was reoccurring theme throughout the three friends, as all throughout high school there would be days where Eleanor would fall incredibly lazy, simply wearing yoga pants, and a school sweatshirt, baggy enough to conceal the fact that she wasn't wearing a bra underneath. Sometimes, she even passed up the idea of wearing underwear, in which case, Bella and Celeste would simply respond with, "TMI, Eleanor. TMI."

With some help, the curly-haired blonde managed to pack her things, neatly in fact, and finally, Annabelle Lancaster and Eleanor Williams were on their way to visit an old friend, and watch the best show in the world.

xXx

"Barley, can you try _NOT_ to be stinky this time. I have guests coming over." Celeste chuckled, scooping her eccentric brown and white ferret from his rather large cage. He squeaked as she lifted him up onto her shoulder, grinning as she skipped lightly to the kitchen, preparing snacks, drinks, and sweets.

Carefully, she filled a bowl with salty, grain chips, and grabbed another to fill it with salsa, spicy cheese, and sour cream; taking hold of them all and placing them on the coffee table. Then she grabbed out three, fancy wine glasses, setting them gently beside the snacks, incredibly eager to have a margarita.

Next, she went in her pantry, pulling out a large bag of mixed candies, and earning a coo from the small creature chilling out on her shoulder.

"Barley, no. You know what sugar does to you." Celeste groaned, rolling her eyes, and shaking her head, whilst pouring the sweets into another, fairly larger green bowl.

Once she'd finished, setting everything neatly on her coffee table, she sighed and took a sip of her tea – her fourth cup today – utterly satisfied with herself. Once she put down her mug, she scurried over to her rather large apartment TV, bending down in a squat position to open the Bluray disc slot.  
>Then, – with as much caution as she could conger up – she removed the fragile CD from its place inside the <em>Sherlock, Season 1<em> casing – as the three friends had planned to simply have a _Sherlock_ marathon before getting to the newest season released. Ever so gracefully, she placed it on the slot, pushing in the drive, and watched as her TV lit up, revealing the classic musical theme she had grown so very fond of.

She wiggled slightly, small moans of irritation sounding from the small ferret still sitting on her shoulder, as she danced to the rhythm.

She hummed along, slowly sashaying to the kitchen – elegantly pulling off Moriarty's _'Reichenbach Fall'_ dance, as he approached the crown jewels – her hums filled with slight, '_Buh duh, bup bup bup, ba lah, dah dah!_' while she continued to sway to the amazing melody.

She took eager glances over her shoulder, catching the many images and film work displayed on the screen in her living room, casting the amazing, and deadly attractive expressions and features of Sherlock Holmes and John Watson.

She couldn't even process how bloody excited she was.  
>And then the doorbell rang, and her excitement level raised to at least an eleven on her mental scale of one to ten.<p>

She nearly fell to the floor face first, while climbing over furniture, to reach her apartment's front door, ignoring Barley's feeble attempt to hang on for dear life. She grabbed hold of the handle, flinging the door wide open, revealing two of her greatest friends.

"Domino's pizza: pickup or delivery?" Eleanor's mocking tone was the first thing to hit Celeste's ears, and her grin widened to its full extent.  
>The dirty blonde turned to gaze at both: El smirking playfully, and Bella giggling in contentment.<p>

"Mon amis!" Celeste exclaimed, and threw both arms around the necks of the two in front of her, receiving teasingly loud groans and grunts.

"Can't breathe." Bella croaked in exaggeration, and Celeste let out a pleasant laugh.

"There is a strange creature on your shoulder, Celeste, and it's giving me the evil eye." Eleanor uttered into her friends ear, and she immediately drew back, a smile still playing on her features.

She glanced down, observing both her friends thoroughly. Bella looked like an utterly formal Marilyn Monroe, her lips a light red, and her outfit speaking nothing but business. She then turned to Eleanor, who wore the most hilarious Harry Potter merchandise shirt, and blue jeans that fit her figure well, along with cute, pink slip-on shoes.

"Look at you two!" Celeste chuckled, quite positive she looked utterly ridiculous in her black skinny jeans, and purple neon shirt that portrayed the silhouette of her favorite consulting detective. She ushered them inside, giving Barley a pat as to calm him down, having frightened the fur off of him as soon as she'd hugged her friends.

"Welcome to my humble abode."

Eleanor and Bella entered slowly, smiles wide on their features as they gazed around the not-so-spacious area of Celeste's apartment. They stared pleasantly at the neat living room, baring a long sofa that seated three people, black and white in color, set before a wide TV, sitting upon a glass structure that appeared as more of a shelf. Bookshelves laced most of the room, books seeming to have tumbled to the floor; most likely from a rage due to lack of motivation or writer's block from the artist, and author, that lived there. Across from the living room was an open kitchen with white counters, and a black surfaced island smack dab in the middle – not to mention the rather large pantry and long refrigerator tucked in the corners.

"This is nice!" Bella exclaimed proudly, gazing at Celeste with an expression of pride for her friend.

"I try my best." Celeste curtsied playfully, and skipped towards the kitchen, headed straight for the white, porcelain fridge.

"Go ahead and put your stuff anywhere." She added, and soon heard a loud thump come from Eleanor tossing her heavy bag to the floor, and then capsizing down onto her couch. Bella's laughter followed and she did the same.

"Hey!" Celeste snapped at the two of them, "First we need some margaritas and some popcorn, ay?"  
>She giggled and her old friends nodded contently, springing upward and dashing to the kitchen.<p>

"But seriously, Celeste," Eleanor began as she tugged the large Margarita mix from the bottom of her bag, causing her extra clothes to pour over onto the floor. "What_ is_ that thing?" She uttered teasingly, pointing to the ferret still sitting on her friend's shoulder.

Celeste chuckled and gave her a punch on the shoulder, "This _thing_, is Barley." She smiled while glancing up at the little brown and white ball of fur, growing steadily sleepy on her shoulder bone.

Bella approached her, twiddling a finger over the top of the animal's fluffy head, "I think he's cute."

Celeste let out a laugh and nodded, "Why, thank you, Bella."

She sent El a playful glare, before going about filling three glasses with water, and trotting over to place them on the table.  
>Annabelle followed with the newly popped popcorn, and set it down gently, careful not to let any of the strangely shaped corn fall to the floor, as the bowl was thoroughly over-flowing. Her dark-haired friend glanced up to take note of the image portrayed on the screen of her friend's TV, which currently showed John Watson on the menu screen, happily observing Sherlock's methods.<p>

Bella placed a hand on her heart and swooned teasingly.

Celeste found it absolutely invigorating: the fact that her friend's favorite character in the show was Captain Dr. John Watson, army doctor, who served in Afghanistan.

Eleanor, on the other hand, partially worried her, as she had fallen head over heels for the man that so diligently wanted to destroy both Sherlock and John Watson for the sake of freeing himself of constant boredom.  
>Then again, James Moriarty was quite the character, and the nagging idea, in the back of Celeste's head, that the broadcast which had aired at the end of Season 3, could quite possibly mean Moriarty has returned, was driving her absolutely bonkers.<br>She remembered the moment she first found out; she had thrown a pillow at the TV and uttered every cuss word that came to mind at the time.  
>She turned completely monstrous with rage, torment, and a considerable amount of excitement.<p>

Soon, Celeste, Bella, and Eleanor were sitting before the TV, drinking margaritas, eating popcorn with chips and dip, and laughing laughs that could concern the neighbors.

xXx

They sat through 'The Study in Pink', high fiving one another every time Sherlock looked like a total badass, and 'awwing' every time John Watson was utterly ignorant to Sherlock's method of deduction.

They found themselves partially squealing in both amusement and reluctance whenever a gay joke was made toward the duo, and gasping when either Sherlock, John, or Lestrade did something deafeningly attractive, for example ruffling their fingers through their hair, or giving intimate glances towards another.

Celeste spent every moment basically mumbling the script quietly to herself, not feeling an inch of embarrassment that she had memorized each line of each episode.

Bella spent most of her time watching, wide-eyed, and mouth gaped open, so highly caught up in the action, deductions, and chaos of Sherlock's world.

Eleanor kept fidgeting, knowing full well that Moriarty was behind the taxi-drivers installment in crime, and cooing ear-splittingly loud when his name was shouted at the episode's end by Sherlock's enforcement on the serial killer.

_"MORIARTY!"  
><em>

They all joined in for that part and relished in Sherlock's expression and his comment to John at the end.

_"__What are you so happy about?"_

The girls shivered.

_"__Moriarty."_

And when the episode came to a conclusion, they jumped up and down with excitement, knowing what they were drawing nearer and nearer to: Season 4.

xXx

The next episode they were faced with was 'The Blind Banker', and that's when things started to get weird.

"Anyone want another margarita?" Eleanor giggled, nearly tripping over the chair she was currently standing up from.

Celeste and Bella shook their heads and glared playfully at their friend.

"No, thanks." Bella sighed, rolling her eyes at El.

"I don't think you need another one, either." Celeste added with a smirk, and quickly pressed play on the disc menu.

The two girls left on the couch, as Eleanor was making more popcorn, stared contently, observing _Soo Lin Yao_ working gracefully on the teapots before her.

"I was always sad she died." Celeste bit her lip, while Bella pouted tragically. "Yeah, I felt bad for her."

Annabelle cringed as the small, nervous boy of a man worked up his courage to approach the beautiful Chinese woman, asking if they could go to the pub together sometime, and then to only be shut down with a, _"I can't. I'm sorry. Please stop asking". _

Eleanor's voice boomed in an echo of mockery from the kitchen, "Oh, rejected!"

Both girls still on the couch turned to the light blonde-haired girl, scowling her way in a glare, "Eleanor!"  
>They shouted at her simultaneously, which only sent her spiraling into a fit of giggles.<br>They rolled their eyes and focused on the episode again.

Eleanor finally joined them just as Soo Lin Yao went to pull the white sheet off the sculpted museum statue.  
>The three friends shuddered, as they knew what was beneath it.<p>

_Chinese number 15, translated through a book to mean 'Dead man'. _

At that moment, as if to purposely frighten the living daylight out of them, the lights in Celeste's apartment flickered.  
>All three of the girls tilted their heads upwards, staring with narrowed eyes at the ceiling above them.<p>

"That was weird." Bella mumbled, feeling the need to speak quietly.

The other two nodded, just as the flicker came again. The artificial light stirred, emanating a strange noise: a buzzing that sounded as though a bee was trapped inside its bulb. When it flickered once more, the attention was then directed to the TV screen the three friend's had turned back to. It began to falter, the picture display shaking, cutting to a white screen, and then to normal again. Celeste gulped and slowly got up from her seat, approaching the TV with caution to banging softly on its side, and the Bluray player's disc drive. Nothing was fixed, as the screen continued to flicker, same as the lights.

Now everything was flashing.

The girls clutched onto one another in confusion as they heard the dishwasher beep, the toilet flush, the faucet spring to life with gushing water, the microwave popping open, the stereo turning on and off while playing odd alternative beats, and Celeste's phone binging constantly as the charger worked, then stopped working, then worked, then stopped working.

"What the hell is happening?" Eleanor exclaimed, grabbing Celeste by the wrist and pulling her toward the three of them on the couch, worried she would disappear in the chaos of this current electricity problem.

"I have no flipping clue!" Celeste managed in a shout, tucking her legs under her arms as she repositioned herself on the couch.

Bella leaned over and took both of her friend's arms in hers, locking them firmly, as they peered around the apartment, every single piece of technology seemingly trying to kill them. They all turned their attention back to the screen of the TV, which now no longer played the soft sound of their favorite show, and instead whistled like a broken wave of wind.

"And this is how I die." Eleanor mumbled to herself, squeezing tighter to her companions, their warmth her only comfort.

"Oh, don't be melodramatic!" Bella exclaimed over the rather noisy chaos.

"Guys." Celeste uttered, and both heads of the other two girls turned to focus back on the screen of Celeste's television.

White. Simply white.

It was almost…tempting.  
>The white screen seemed to drawn you in, cuddle up to you in hopes of reassuring you that it's display was nothing but an innocent mirage.<p>

Suddenly, Celeste felt as though a vacuum cleaner had gripped onto her every inch of skin, sucking her toward the TV in an attempt of eating her whole.

"Eleanor! Bella!" She exclaimed, as her entire body was lurched forward, flying face first toward the TV.

"Celeste!" Annabelle cried out and went to grab hold of her arm, successfully gripping her fingers around her wrist.

Bella let out a shriek as she two was pulled forward entirely forcefully, feeling as though a vicious current was pulling her in.  
>Eleanor leapt forward, holding both now, clutching with all her strength to both hands.<p>

"What in the name of all that is sane is going?" El screamed, observing as both her friends floated in the air toward the screen they had only just been watching their favorite show on.

"I don't know, but don't let go!" Bella yelled desperately, as Celeste only nodded beside her.

At that moment, Eleanor felt her clothes begin to shake, stretching outward as they drifted into the air, facing the pure white, hypnotizing screen.

"Oh, hell no!" She shook her head, just as her body lunged forward, taking both her friends with her, right into the center of the TV display.

They only saw white, felt wind seeping through every arch and corner of their body, and then black replaced the light of their vision.

_The portal to an alternate universe had opened._

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><p><em>DUN DUN DUUUUUUUN. Heehee, okidoki. Tell me what you think. ;)<em>

_A/N: To the reviewer, you were a guest so I can't really direct it personally, I will definitely do a chapter in Annabelle's point of view. :)  
>I had already <em>_written this chapter so I couldn't really change it. :) thank you so much for the review, please continue to give me feedback!  
>Glad you enjoyed it. :)<em>


	3. Periodic Tables and Shattered Teacups

**OH yes. Stuff had gone DOWN. More reviews please guys. :3 **  
><strong>I like to know what you think. Makes my day andor my night. ;)**  
><strong>All the best!<strong>  
><strong>-JB<strong>

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><p><span><em><strong>Chapter 3: Periodic Tables and Shattered Teacups<strong>_

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><p>Nothing but a prolonged and rather unsettling groan escaped the dirty blonde sprawled out on the hard, wooded ground. She twitched slightly, curling her fingernails along the flat surface beneath her. She tasted a faint, yet familiar, metallic taste in her mouth as she lay there, rather motionlessly.<p>

Flinching faintly to get a grip on where she was, she felt her bare feet, her toes freezing cold and numb, she felt the thin material of her long, black skinny jeans, and the coziness of her bright purple, Sherlock shirt. Sherlock. _Sherlock_!

Her head shot upwards, her long blonde hair following diligently, smacking her back in ferocity, while her eyes widened, taking in her surroundings.  
>She spotted a bed, first of all, with rather plain cream-colored sheets, and pillows.<br>She then saw framed image of the periodic table and a rather old, ancient image of a strange Chinese – or was that Japanese? – dialect.

A small bookshelf of bright mahogany stood in the corner, baring multiple readings, and miscellaneous items, and also holding the weight of a rather shiny mirror, allowing Celeste to get a good look of herself, positioned belly first on the, also cream-colored, wood floor.

Her face was incredibly pale, but that was normal. What wasn't normal was the open cut, split firmly across her bottom lip. She jerked back in surprise, and placed a finger to it in an attempt to sooth the now very apparent pain.

Upon further speculation, as in eyeing the mirror suspiciously, she spotted the mound of both curly, bleach blonde, and silky, long black hair, folded over limp bodies behind her. She gasped and whirled around, the entirety of their position filling her vision.

Closest to her was Annabelle, so in an attempt to wake her, she clutched onto her shoulder, shaking her furiously back and forth.  
>The dark-haired girl jolted awake, peering up at where she was first and then to the woman who had awoken her.<p>

"Celeste?" She questioned, eyes narrowed in suspicion and full-blown confusion. She cringed upon moving to a more comfortable position, on top of her folded knees, when she felt the pain searing from her elbow. She lifted it to reveal a rather nasty scrape, of which blood was oozing down and onto the pale wooded flooring. She gazed up at her friend, noticing her injury as well, piercing her bottom lip, and made an attempt to aid her, her inner-doctor revealing itself.

"Not now," Celeste quickly responded, deducing the motion, "We need to check if El is okay."

Annabelle nodded and flipped over, ignoring her own wound, and now facing Eleanor with complete and utter concern. She mirrored Celeste's action in shaking her awake, which, in turn, worked, and Eleanor's head flew upwards in shock.

"El!" Bella exclaimed, taking note of the third injury between the three of them: a scratch right on top of the bright, blonde's eyebrow, contrasting deeply with her rather perplexed blue eyes. Whilst she managed to sit up, Bella turned to Celeste, holding her by the chin to scope out the severity of the wound.

"_Not too deep._" She whispered, unsure of why, and sent Celeste a reassuring nod.

She did the same for Eleanor, and responded with the same conclusion: not too serious.  
>Bella sighed when she noticed the faint contrast of crimson on her white shirt, shaking her head as she observed her elbow once more.<br>When she was sure everyone was going to be just fine, Annabelle spoke up. "Guys. Where the hell are we?"

Both Celeste and Eleanor turned to her, eyebrows raised in their own lack of understanding. Getting to her feet, Celeste's eyes darted around the room she stood in, taking notice everything revealing or important. Eleanor and Bella watched intently, straining to get to their own two feet, feeling slightly vulnerable and insecure on the floor of which they new nothing of.

_Something was familiar here,_ be it the periodic table fixture or the appealing color of the bed sheets and flooring.  
>But the only thing coming to mind was impossible.<br>Frankly, utterly, impossible.  
>Incredulously false and lacking ability to happen.<br>_Right?_

"Mon amis," Celeste began, taking a deep breath, "I'm being completely serious when I say this,"  
>She hesitated but finally finished off her statement. "I think we're in Sherlock's room."<p>

Eleanor and Bella turned to gaze at each other, blink, and then looked back again to their dirty blonde-haired friend, eyes glowing in confusion.

"I'm not supposed to laugh, right?" El asked in a hushed tone of frankly irritable amusement.

Celeste deadpanned and shook her head, receiving a nod from both parties.  
>"Think about it!" She exclaimed, still keeping her voice down, "What's the last thing you remember?"<p>

Eleanor swallowed and glanced over at Bella for help.

Annabelle cleared her throat and frowned, "White – white everywhere. We were…vacuumed in…into the…the TV screen." Bella sputtered the words, oddly confused with what she was saying as much as the other two were with just listening.

Eleanor nodded, thinking the whole occurrence over, and then turning to Celeste with widened eyes, "Holy crap, this is phantasmagorical."

Celeste simply blinked, while Bella gazed with narrowed eyes.

Suddenly, their confused silence was broken by the sudden aura of voices booming from behind the closed door they hadn't even bother to pay attention to. Celeste immediately shushed the other two girls in the room, eager to hear whoever was among them.

Her heart nearly stopped beating when she listened to the array of voices.

_"__You took your time."  
><em>

_"Yeah, I didn't get the shopping."_

_"__What? Why not?"_

_"__Because I had a row, in the shop, with a chip-and-PIN machine."_

_"__You ... you had a row with a machine?"_

_"__Sort of. It sat there and I shouted abuse. Have you got cash?"_

_"__Take my card."_

_"__You could always go yourself, you know. You've been sitting there all morning. You've not even moved since I left."_

_"__And what happened about that case you were offered – the Jaria Diamond?"_

_"__Not interested. I sent them a message."_

Everyone froze.

They knew that dialogue anywhere.

That meant what they thought was **happening**, right now, this **happenstance** they **happened** to **happen** upon, was really **happening**, for the sake of all that **happens** to them, and it was truly, and really, really, **happening**.

Celeste began to shake hysterically, her fingers trembling with every motion she took, closer and closer to the door.

"What are you doing?" Annabelle whispered from behind her, heart constricting as their current state really sank in.

Celeste looked at her, eyes wide, lips pursed tightly together, "What the hell do you think I'm doing?" Her features then broke into a firm, widely stretched grin.

Eleanor reached forward and grabbed Celeste's wrist. "I don't think so!"

Celeste frowned and shook her head in confusion, snatching back her arm from her friend's grasp.

Annabelle nodded, glanced at Eleanor, and then back at the darker blonde, her dainty, pale hand perched and ready on the door handle.  
>"El is right, Celeste. We have no clue what is happening right now. I don't think it's a great idea to interact with anything."<p>

Celeste scoffed and lifted both hands into the air, "We do have a clue, Bella!"  
>She smirked and went for the door again, "I know what you're worried about, Bells."<br>She bobbed her head up and down as Eleanor and Annabelle stared in confusion and concern.  
>"You think I'm going to freak out, be unable to keep my cool."<br>Celeste twisted the handle and the other two bystanders twitched in regret.  
>"Don't worry. I have this all under control." Celeste added, right as she dragged the door open, and twisted out into the hall.<p>

Eleanor peered over at Bella, and face palmed.

xXx

Celeste crept out into the wide stretched corridor, more doors attached to its white walls. She carefully placed one foot after another, cautious to step quietly, without drawing too much attention to herself. She took in the sight currently surrounding her, as she finally surfaced from the long hallway and came out upon far messier surroundings.

Papers scattered every inch of the floor, whilst miscellaneous items littered the shelves of dusty bookcases, or cupboards. The kitchen was visible, the island in the middle completely swamped by experimental tools, like beakers, and testing tubes, and a rather large expensive-looking microscope.

She rounded it, completely in awe with what was before her; things she had fantasized about seeing, touching, witnessing.

Intrigued greatly by a small, blue teacup sitting on a rather tiny coffee table, bearing a small lamp, she picked it up and gazed at it, sitting in her pale hand with such poise and beauty. The idea kept reoccurring in her mind – did _he_ drink out of this? _Him_?

She kept it with her as she neared closer and closer to her final destination, and upon seeing the sight filling the entirety of her vision, she felt every bone, organism, muscle – _you name it_ – turn to dust.

A small fireplace sat, which bore strange thingamabobs, such as a display of a bat and a few beetles, all dead of course, and a human skull sitting wide-eyed, rather comfortably. Strange patterns filled the wallpaper along with eerie décor, like the sculpted artwork of a buffalo head who jokingly wore headphones, most likely added by the owner.

But what made Celeste completely fall apart was the man sitting in one of the two chairs – the black leather one, as she knew all too well – perched upward, utterly still, his fingers arched under his chin in his infamous steeple position. His hair sprawled out elegantly on his head, curls lying every which way as though it had been ruffled in frustration. He wore a slick white dress shirt, tucked into his black slacks, topped off with the most eye-catching, charcoal colored, lace-up dress shoes. A book sat firmly in his hand, and she pictured those brilliantly icy blue eyes scanning the words, while his fingers flipped the pages.

Oh, she knew who it was. And her heart was racing all too quickly.

As though she'd made a noise, which she was sure she hadn't, the man's head whirled over his shoulder, taking in the second presence in the room that he had been completely unaware of. Gray – maybe blue, yet perhaps greens, and twined with gold – orbs shimmered elegantly in the artificial light.

As much as she wanted to, Celeste didn't have the chance to stare long, as she was already letting out the loudest shriek possible, which was probably currently jolting her friend's to their feet. Her hazel eyes glowed in disbelief, widened as much as was physically possible, while the famous, and frankly all too beautiful, detective before her got to his feet, glaring her way in utter confusion and surprise.

Still screaming, she couldn't help herself as she brought down the blue teacup, smacking it clean across the man's head. _So much for poise and beauty. _

"Oh, holy defecation." She squealed, staring down at the shattered, china teacup and the unconscious, still incredibly beautiful creature next to it.

_Why did she do that? Stupid stupid stupid! _  
><em>Celeste you idiot, you are ridiculous, you are unbelievable, you are…standing next to Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock bloody Holmes!<em>

A hand on her shoulder sent her leaping sky high in fright, her head spinning to catch Eleanor's amused expression, and Bella's utterly exhausted facial features.

"Under control, huh?" El questioned, nodding her head in sarcastic understanding.

Celeste bit her lip and sighed.


	4. Doctors and Detectives

**Next chapter. I need some more reviews please. Helps me. :D THANK YOU!**  
><strong>Lemme know if you're enjoying it. It is a bit humorous. :3<strong>

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><p><span><em><strong>Chapter 4: Doctors and Detectives<strong>_

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><p>"What is god's name were you thinking?" Annabelle exclaimed, eyes wide with disbelief and heaping amounts of genuine concern.<p>

Celeste shook her head, lifting her hands in the air in honest confusion, "I don't know!"

Eleanor groaned as all three of them stared down at the unconscious being, sprawled out uncomfortably on the floor, his waistline highly thin, and his legs longer than expected. "Great. You knocked out Sherlock flipping Holmes!"

Celeste huffed angrily and shrugged, sincerely lacking understanding as to why she'd suddenly attacked with a teacup.  
>"I'm sorry! Okay? I got," She paused, stuttering and desperately searching for the right words, "freaked out."<p>

Eleanor rolled her eyes, staring at her friend incredulously. "Freaked out? So, what? You decide to smash a mug over his head?"

Annabelle moaned in irritation and glared daggers at the two bickering girls, "Enough okay! We don't know what we're dealing with here!"

Eleanor scoffed, thoroughly bemused, "Exactly, which is why Celeste shouldn't go knocking people out in their own homes!"

Celeste dropped her head back and stared at the ceiling letting out a long, "GAH!"  
>Eleanor and Bella were both staring at her now, both utterly confused and still basically in their own state of shock.<p>

"Look, I was scared, okay? This guy, this man, this beautiful, magnificent, absolutely, completely enticing, wonderful-"

"Celeste."

"Sorry, right." She took a deep breath, "Anyway, he isn't suppose to exist."

The other two girls nodded and sighed, reality dawning on them, as she had a thoroughly honest point.

The darker blonde let out a huff and gestured to the still unconscious being, "I fantasize over this guy, okay? I just got a little _weirded_ out upon seeing him in front of me."

Bella reached forward and placed a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder, bobbing her head up and down in agreement. "It's okay. We are going to figure this out." They both gazed at each other rather solemnly before hearing Eleanor's soft voice chime in.

"Better do it quickly, because he's coming to."

All three heads fixed their focus solely on the man flinching on the floor, his head seemingly lolling over to the side in confusion and delusion.

"Oh, man. Oh, god. Holy crap." Celeste sputtered, and Bella instantly reached for her arms, holding her in place to keep her from having a mental breakdown. "You just need to chill, Celeste. Okay? Just breathe."

Celeste nodded, but was too consumed in watching the man twitch on the floor, moaning slightly as he struggled to move.

"Now what?" Eleanor exclaimed, shrugging mindlessly as she gazed at her two friends; one seemingly calm, the other visibly spazzing out.

Before either one of them could say another word, footsteps boomed from outside the flat's door. All three heads turned to face its entrance, hearts pounding as they all fell into a rather genuine panic mode.

Eleanor sighed, dropping her shoulders, "We're screwed."

Bella groaned, shaking her head and observing the situation. She took note of the curly haired man slowly awakening on the floor, and then the sound of keys jingling in the door lock.

"I say we hide."

Eleanor and Celeste stared in surprise and frankly disbelief, as their friend grasped onto their arms and dragged them into the kitchen.

"Go!" She whispered the yell toward them and everyone immediately separated.

Bella ducked behind the island bearing all experiment components possible, while both Celeste and Eleanor hid behind the out-stretched walls enclosing the kitchen, out of sight of the living room and those in it. They all merely held their breaths; Celeste gazing with narrowed eyes straight across from Eleanor, while Annabelle poked her head over the texting tubes, and beakers to get a better look at the living room in her view.

They all heard the moans of groans of the man Celeste had knocked out, and then the click as the door snapped open, bearing the sounds of grunting and plastic shopping bags crackling as they were carried inside. A sarcastic comment followed: _"Don't worry about me, I can manage."_

Celeste's eyes widened and she immediately cussed under her breath, grabbing the attention of her friend straight across from her.

"What?" Eleanor mouthed, and the darker blonde instantly read her lips.

"Jo-hn Wa-ts-on" She moved her mouth to the rhythm of the words, silently trying to speak with her friend.

"What?"

"JOHN WATSON." Celeste flinched her head to the wall, indicating towards the person on the other side, and then moved to twitch toward Annabelle.

Eleanor's eyes widened in panic, and she nodded quickly, wincing, as she had no idea what to do with the oncoming fan-girl storm that would brew as soon as Bella made contact with her favorite character.

_"Sherlock?"_

Everybody froze, just as they had before.

_"Sherlock! Are you okay?_" The soft voice rumbled in an echo through the dead silent flat, apart from the delirious man's groans and mumbles, and the girl's own rapid heartbeats.

Celeste listened for the deep baritone that struggled to form words.

"_John_," The second voice stuttered and another long moan emanated from the living room, along with a clatter and squeak of leather crunching together, as if the good doctor was lifting his friend into his black armchair. Celeste turned just in time to see Bella slowly rising from her hiding place, mouth gaping open and eyes widened wholeheartedly.

"_Fudge._" The darker blonde gasped quietly, causing Eleanor to meet her own frightened eyes.

_"What happened, did someone do this to you?"_ John's comforting voice nearly distracted Celeste from the situation at hand, and she immediately focused on Annabelle again, now fully in view if the doctor or detective were to look.

She met eyes with her dark-haired friend and shook her head, telling her not to move, but she simply ignored it.

And then, _exactly_ what she was afraid _of_ happening, _happened. _

_"Who the hell are you?_" The soft voice of the doctor sounded angry now and terribly confused.

Eleanor rolled her eyes. "Cover blown." She stated – loudly – most likely loud enough that John Watson had heard.

Celeste cringed and slowly stepped from her hiding place, Eleanor mirroring her own movements, Annabelle walking the best she could toward them without stumbling in utter disbelief, until they were all facing four glowing eyes – the two men facing them, one sitting, one standing.

Celeste of course, focused first on the detective staring directly at her, in the manner that he remembered she was the one to knock him out. Now she got a good look at those eyes, and they were even more captivating in person. His eyes seemed to look through her, chewing at the insides of her soul, and stealing away all her secrets.  
>Tall, unbelievably tall. Thin, too thin. His face was perfectly sculpted; his cheekbones popping out like the blade of a dagger, sharp and deeply set. Is lips were full, and the perfect color, a light barely noticeable pink.<p>

Reluctantly turning away from the consulting detective, she turned to face the good doctor. He had dusty blonde hair, and utterly wise, dark blue eyes that seemed incredibly friendly, yet could possibly, very well, be harshly stern, and criticizing if twisted in the wrong way, for example out of anger or disappointment. He was also far more magnificent in person than on a TV screen. Currently, he wore a black, long-sleeved button-up shirt, with matching, dark, dark, dark navy blue jeans.

Both men stared in absolute skepticism and thorough disbelief.

Celeste watched as Sherlock's eyes vibrated over her, taking in ever detail, every minor sentence etched into the surface of her skin, most likely forming his deduction utterly precisely.

Eleanor stepped forward, taking a deep breath, and realizing she was probably the best person to speak at this point, as the character that she would surely fan-girl – obsessively – over wasn't here.

"Hey." She began, completely at a loss for what she was supposed to say under these circumstances.  
>John glanced over at Sherlock, who was still gazing at Celeste, and the turned back to Eleanor.<p>

"Can someone tell me what the hell is going on?" He sighed, crossing his arms over his chest, obviously on edge.

"_That'd be nice._" Eleanor muttered and winced, as Celeste let out a groan, snapping herself out of her blank stare.

"Dr. Watson." She cleared her throat, finding it utterly hard to speak at this point.

The doctor raised his eyebrows and shrugged, "How do you know my name?"

Celeste blinked and visibly swallowed, "_You see_, that's a little hard to explain."

John scoffed and shook his head, "I'm not going anywhere, and frankly you're not either, unless you tell me who the bloody hell you are and why you're in our flat."

Sherlock was still silent, still staring flatly, directly at the darker blonde who shifted uncomfortably.

Eleanor bit her lip, "See here's the thing, we don't exactly know how to answer those questions."

John chuckled in disbelief, "Well, I guess you _can_ leave. Of course, after I call Scotland Yard telling them we had a break-in."

Celeste flew forward, whipping her head back and forth in protest to the threat, "_No!_ No."

Eleanor hit her gently with the back of her hand and grinned, "_Hey, why not? We could meet Lestrade._"

John narrowed his eyes, listening impatiently to their conversation.

"_Oh_," Celeste smirked with a small giggle, "That's a _good_ point."

Suddenly, the two girls, of whom were actually being vocal, were pushed aside by the being that had been standing behind them for the longest time, silently observing. Annabelle swayed forward, her hand lifted in the air as she neared closer and closer to John Watson. He stared, utterly confused and thoroughly tense, waiting to see what she planned to do. She simply closed the distance between the two of them and touched a hand to his face. Both were about the same height, and it was quite adorable to watch as she squeezed his cheeks together, gazing at him mindlessly until a wide smile filled her lips. He narrowed his eyes, glanced at Sherlock. then the other two strangers, and then back at the woman before him.

Eleanor groaned and reached forward, tightening her arms around her friend's waist, and dragged her backward and away from her infatuation.  
>At the touch, Bella suddenly snapped back into reality, and her eyes widened in horror.<p>

"Oh," She mumbled and turned her gaze back to John, raising a hand and smiling apologetically, though still rather fascinated, "I'm so sorry."

John simply nodded and cleared his throat.

Eleanor placed her friend beside Celeste and sighed, glancing at John with exhausted eyes, "Listen, Doctor. We don't want any trouble. Honestly, we have no idea what is going on."

Before John could respond to the response, his features softening in acceptation, Sherlock straightened himself out, and finally found his voice, the deep baritone sending shivers down Celeste's back.

"I'm on her shirt, _John_."

John Watson peered up at the tall detective, who had yet to remove his eyes from the dirty blonde-haired girl. She gulped as he took a step closer toward her, and another, and then another, until he was standing directly before her, observing every movement or mere flinch.

"I'm assuming that is me." He mumbled, his eyes on her own, hazel gazing up at icy blue, while he pointed to his silhouette displayed fashionably on her purple covered chest. Celeste bit her lip, unable to look away, and nodded.

Unexpectedly, a small smirk tugged at the ends of Sherlock's fairly pink lips, "You knocked me out with a teacup."

Celeste simply nodded again, inwardly murdering herself for growing so flustered. Then again…she _was_ face to face with _the_ Sherlock Holmes.

"I'm rather impressed." He stated, still staring directly through her.

She swallowed, holding her breath.

"You're one, of few people, I've encountered who hasn't been incredibly dull with their first impression." He added, a devious grin thoroughly visible now, breaking his features, making him look almost menacing.

Celeste's eyes widened, "I-I, I – um, th-thank y-you."

The man chuckled at her cheeks, blushing under the embarrassment of stuttering, and backed away, returning to John's side to fully observe the three newcomers. "Why the hell are you on her shirt?" John sputtered, an eyebrow raised in curiosity. Sherlock shrugged, "Haven't the faintest."

Celeste smiled widely, suddenly finding herself oddly fascinated with her feet, which at this point were still bare and oddly pale.

Eleanor cleared her throat and took a step forward, "Can you give us a mo?"

Sherlock narrowed his eyes, same as John, both sharing a look before nodding hesitantly.

"Great." Eleanor winked, and took both her friends by the arms, pulling them into a small circle of discussion.

_"What do we do?"_ She asked, eyes wide with caution.

Bella and Celeste simply smiled mindlessly, caught up in their bewilderment.

"_Guys!_" Eleanor exclaimed quietly, snapping her fingers in front of both their faces.

Both jolted awake in suspicion and shock, clearing their throats and nodding intently.

"_Right_, yes. _Right._" Bella mumbled and squeezed her eyes shut, focusing on the problem at hand.

Celeste sighed and shrugged, gazing up at both of her friends with a pleasant smirk, "Why don't we just tell them the truth?"

Bella gaped while Eleanor arched a brow.

"What, and end up in a mental facility?" El snapped, shaking her head in disapproval.

Celeste huffed and lifted her hands to better explain the idea. "Look, this is _Sherlock Holmes_ and _John Watson_ – the _detective duo_ that goes after _giant hounds and psychopaths._ Will _our story_ really sound that insane?"

"Hey! _Moriarty is not a psychopath_, he's just…_misunderstood_." Eleanor spat out, pouting as her friends gazed at her blankly.

"_Right_. Anyway, sound like a plan?" Celeste asked with a small reassuring smirk.

Bella sighed and nodded, "What choice do we have?"

The three of them spun around to stare at the two men watching them intently.  
>Celeste glanced at Eleanor, who nodded, and then at Bella who smiled wearily, and then began, directing her line of sight straight at John Watson.<p>

"My name is Celeste Winchester, and this is Eleanor Williams and Annabelle Lancaster. We got sucked into our TV – how? I have no flipping clue – and frankly I'm beginning to think we are in an alternate universe, you know, like all Doctor Whoey and stuff. We woke up in Sherlock Holmes' bedroom, I freaked out and hit him in the head with a teacup, knocking him unconscious, and then voila – you showed up."


	5. Stop Deducing Me

**So sorry for the wait guys! Please hit me with some reviews!  
>They really boost my motivation and chapters come quicker as a result!<br>Thank you so much to everyone keeping up with the story! :3  
>Hope you like this chapter! It is rather long soo...<br>And in case you are wondering, Celeste is me... :D  
>Sorry if they are a little OOC.<br>Personally I feel John is...  
>Oh well, I tried my best!<br>Love you all!  
>-JB<strong>

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><p><span><em><strong>Chapter 5: "Stop Deducing Me"<strong>_

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><p>Both men simply stared in complete, and utter disbelief; skin blanching, and eyes bulging. Celeste appeared the same, in her own confusion, as she realized just how, frankly, insane she must have just sounded. <em>Oh, great job, Celeste. Now you've got a real chance with the consulting detective<em>. She rolled her eyes, inwardly, and let out a long sigh, still waiting for either the doctor or the genius to respond. She glanced over at both her friends, who stood unbelievably still, merely observing as well, eyes squinting slightly, as if internally praying for the two men to understand their bewildering explanation.

Clearing her throat, Eleanor stepped forward, the first to speak, "It's the truth. We may sound like buffoons, but it _is_ the truth."

Celeste watched as Sherlock swallowed, an eyebrow arched as his eyes turned to simply stare down at the ground, as if contemplating what she had just said, and leaving Celeste's mouthful on replay. John only stood straight, staring widely at the three girls, eyes looming over Annabelle more than anyone else, as if hoping she had a better choice of input. Celeste tapped her bare foot on the ground, her toes curling inward due to the awkwardness of the one-way conversation and infinite amount of confused glares.

"I think I should check out those injuries." John's soft – and rather caring – tone of voice knocked her from her thoughts and the appearance of her nail-polish-chipped nubs.

Eleanor groaned from behind, shaking her head at the fact that John just didn't understand.  
><strong>Don't get them wrong<strong>, they were absolutely **thrilled** and flat out **fascinated** to be in the world of **Sherlock Holmes**, but the question of **how** they got there still loomed near, and the **slight worry** that they may not be able to **get back**.

Annabelle stepped forward and smiled generously up at John, who hesitantly returned the kind expression.  
>"Have you got any bandages? I've hurt my elbow." She lifted it for him to see, and he took notice, wincing slightly at the scraped up mess, and then nodded, flashing her a polite beam.<p>

He flicked his head toward the direction they'd originally sprouted out of, and Annabelle sent a quick glance toward her friends, eyes lighting up in excitement. And of course, she followed the doctor down the hall. Celeste grimaced as Eleanor stood still behind her, just before tapping a finger forcefully on her arm. She stared at the darker blonde with a face that said, 'we'll talk about this later', and then trotted off in Bella's direction.  
>Celeste sighed and bobbed her head slightly before looking away from the now empty hallway, El had disappeared behind, and back forward again.<p>

She froze. Her eyes landed on the calculating orbs of Sherlock Holmes, glowering at her in both intrigue and curiosity. With a highly visible swallow, she shifted uncomfortably and forced a rather lame smile.

His eyes narrowed, "Perhaps you should follow your friends,"  
>His voice was rather mocking, and his eyes seemed deadly and relentless, "Your lip is not in the best of conditions."<p>

Celeste gulped and nodded, then shook her head soon after. "I'll be alright."  
><em>Hey, at least she didn't stutter this time.<em>

Sherlock smirked rather mischievously, his eyes dropping to observe her from head to toe. She stayed completely and utterly still, aware of what he was doing.

"Doctor whoey, huh?" He questioned, squinting in suspicion, as he stood with his hands neatly folded behind his back, wrapping gently around his black suit.

Her eyes dropped to his shoes. _Oh Loki, how she loved those shoes._

She cleared her throat and brought her full attention to the colorless orbs staring down at her, from a six feet tall height, finally bringing herself to collect her fan-girl macho and actually breathe.

"Yes, as in, the Doctor." She wasn't sure if this was a good thing to speak about with the consulting detective, but she couldn't stop the spewing words.

"The Doctor?"

"Hmm, yes, the Doctor."

"Well, Doctor who?"

Celeste snorted, "Exactly."

She didn't receive an answer: just an inquisitive gaze, and an arched eyebrow. Those exquisite, grey-blue-green-gold eyes danced over her body once more, and she found herself growing highly self-conscious. After all, her fictional crush was standing merely a few feet away from her.

"Stop that."

She immediately regretted the words.

He jerked back, appalled, "_What_? Stop what?"

Celeste groaned playfully, "_Deducing._ Stop deducing me."

The tall man seemed genuinely shocked by this, but nevertheless, he lit up in a sort of supreme, and sincere, sign of gratitude, intrigue, and…temptation?

"You know my methods?"

"Of course I know your methods! I've tried to perfect them for years. But alas, I can't think as fast as you." Celeste's tone of voice was distant, as though she was dramatically sighing at the truth of her statement.

Sherlock raised a brow, and she was pleased to notice a small tug upward on the corner of his lips.

"That is oddly," He paused, and Celeste waited patiently, eyes wide in expectance, "rewarding." T

he blonde scoffed and shook her head, folding both arms across her chest, "Come, now. Don't get sentimental." She was utterly relieved to see that her small, inside-joke (with herself, frankly) had made the consulting detective break into a full out smirk. Celeste mentally patted herself on the back.

xXx

Annabelle couldn't stop staring at the short man before her, his face glowing as he passionately performed what he had sought coverage in as a career. She sat on the counter of the flat's bathroom, John before her, treating her elbow wound, while Eleanor sat on the lid of the toilet seat, watching contently, awaiting her turn. Frankly, both were relishing in excitement.

"I'm a doctor too, you know." Bella smirked as John peered up at her with wide eyes, and a bright smile.

"Really?" He let out a soft chuckle, "So I could have given you all this stuff and you would have known what to do? I feel like an idiot."  
>His tease caused Bella to grin in admiration.<p>

"I like to watch you do it." She immediately blushed and winced, hearing her words aloud, and feeling absolutely shameful. "What I meant was-"

Eleanor cleared her throat and cut her off, "So! _Doctor Watson,_ you still think we're crazy?"

Eleanor had very well given John a full outline on their lives, and their knowledge of both the blogger and his detective friend. John had been shocked into disbelief, and frankly, in Bella's opinion, he took it pretty well, apart from the whole five minutes of silent staring, of course.

"I suppose it is rather believable, with all the evidence you have presented to me, but to be honest, I still find it highly impossible." John sighed and smiled wearily, nodding his head as Bella bit her lip. He smoothed out the bandage he had placed on her bloodied elbow, and clapped his hands together pleasantly.

"There. All better." His eyes sparkled as he stared up at the timidly unique, dark-haired woman, smiling innocently. S

he quirked up the side of her lip in hesitation and cocked her head to the side, "Thank you, Dr. Watson."

The doctor scoffed, "_John,_ please."

Bella blushed, "John."

Eleanor blinked, watching the two of them with a brow arched highly, as their gazes simply stayed fixed on one another. "  
>My turn?" The interruption was effective, as Bella flinched and John turned his attention to the blonde.<p>

"Yes, of course!" He exclaimed, and Eleanor beamed, trading places with Annabelle. The doctor began wetting a cloth, and dabbing Eleanor's slashed eyebrow.

"So, Bella, you said you were a doctor?" John directed his question to the small woman who had gone quiet as she sat on the toilet seat.  
>El grinned faintly, observing how Watson was obviously drawn to her.<p>

Bella nodded shyly, "Yes, I went to university to study the medicines. I mostly work with kids," She paused and let out a giggle, "but sometimes runny noses can be a bit much. That's when I take on more adult cases."

John chuckled and nodded, completely comprehending where she was coming from.  
>"And you? Eleanor?" John questioned, smiling politely as he turned his attention back to the patient at hand.<p>

Eleanor grinned, "I'm an optometrist, and you can call me El."

John raised his eyebrows, "Eyes, huh?"

El nodded proudly, "Yes siree! They are fascinating!"

Dr. Watson scoffed and shrugged, "I suppose so."

Eleanor bounced happily, "_Swag daddy_."

Bella shot Eleanor a glance, utterly glaring at her for using her _hard-to-understand_ lingo around her fictional crush, but El only smiled wider.

John bobbed his head up and down, "_Right_."

He reached into his first aid kit for a small bandage, and began to unwrap it, "And what about your friend? _Celeste_, was it?"

Bella nodded in confirmation and glanced over at Eleanor, clearing her throat softly, "Yes. She's an artist, really."

John raised both eyebrows and laughed, "You three really are a strange bunch."

Eleanor giggled and nudged Bella's arm, "She left out a minor detail."

John narrowed his eyes and shook his head with a shrug, "What's that?"

Annabelle squinted in suspicion at what her friend was up to, as the blonde turned back to face the good doctor. "She has a _MAJOR_ crush on Sherlock."

John seemingly lit up, light a firecracker on New Year's Eve, everything glowing as he watched the two girls, one grinning widely and the other scowling in resentment. "You're jesting me." John scoffed sarcastically and shook his head once more, utterly disbelieving.

El lifted both hands, "Totally serious."

John let out a loud chuckle, and pinched the bridge of his nose, "I am honestly positive that Sherlock is asexual, not to mention quite the bastard, but if that girl can break him, I will literally serve her till the end of my days."

Bella couldn't hold in the giggles now stubbornly protesting to be released, and Eleanor was already in tears of pure amusement.

"Speaking of which," El began in between hiccups, "Should we have left the two alone?"

Bella turned to her and raised both eyebrows, "Perhaps not."

xXx

"_So_?" She shrugged, and the detective exhaled irritably, as if angered that he had to question her.

"So, _what_?"

"What did you _deduce_?"

Sherlock gave her that same crooked smile and her heart fluttered, "You told me to _stop_ deducing."

Celeste grinned and nodded, "Yeah, I did, but I know you got what you were looking for."

Sherlock seemed to stiffen, as if slightly flustered, and Celeste narrowed her eyes for a moment, upon the belief that he had just, faintly, blushed.

He cleared his throat, and was suddenly glaring at her in his normal arrogance and pride, "Well, of course your accent tells me you're American-"

"Oh, brilliant. Is that all?"

"_No_. If you'd allow me to finish?"

Celeste smirked at his cocky attitude, and gestured her hand outward, awaiting his continuance and ushering him on.

"So, granted, you're American. But what state? From the outlook of your skin color, which is pretty pale with just a slight tan, I'd say you don't go out in the sun too often, but how's that help us with the state? Well, your other two companions are far tanner than you and their appearance informs me your current living location must be sunny, incredulously sunny. Immediately, when I think of sun, I resort to the Sunshine State. Simple."

Celeste's eyes widened slightly, but she kept composed, shrugging carelessly at his frankly brilliant words, "Could be California."

Sherlock grinned and shook his head, "Yes, that was one of my observations, Florida or California, but by just simply looking at the three of you, you certainly do not have that California flare."

Celeste narrowed her eyes, and placed both hands on her hips, "_Hey,_ what's that supposed to mean?"

Sherlock only smirked and raised both eyebrows, "May I continue?"

Celeste swallowed and nodded, her eyes still glowering as she pushed a small dirty-blonde hair from the side of her cheek.

"The way you dress, walk, and talk screams 'University'. I'd say, perhaps, twenty-two? Twenty-three? You're not wearing much make-up, which means you do not divulge in the outlook of others upon you; other opinions are not so important to you when it comes to yourself. Low self-esteem or simply ignorance?"

Sherlock seemed to finish with a question, but Celeste was unable to answer. Her heart was cringing with each word, and her eyes could do nothing but stare in fascination, drying up rather quickly in the cool air of the flat.

"Then comes your occupation."

Celeste blinked and shook her head, "Sorry, my what?"

"Occupation. The way you dress, even merely the style of clothing and the art upon your shirt – not sure why I'm on it, which is frankly aggravating – indicates that you are highly creative, and rather artistic. Not to mention,"

Celeste cleared her throat and shifted uncomfortably.

"Your fingers," Sherlock paused when Celeste looked down to observe the body part he was referring to. "They are tinged with a faint shade of color, blue and green it seems, and appear rather chalky. From this, I deduce you were sketching earlier today, and coloring with powdered pastels."

Celeste gulped, and watched her feet as he continued.

"So, you're still practicing art. Most people, who have found an otherwise more stressful occupation, wouldn't have enough time to further explore their hobby, in the many hours that you take to do so, judging by the faint signs of exhaustion beneath your eyes and the depth of color on your fingers. This can only mean you are currently working in a profession that requires your artistic ability. Perhaps you work in design? Either way, it is an occupation revolving around art."

Celeste took a deep breath inwards through her mouth, and outwards through her nose. _Yup, just as amazing as she knew it would be. Perhaps better._

"You're right. You're absolutely right. Never doubted you though." She shrugged at that last part and smiled innocently, and rather charmingly.

Sherlock straightened up in utter self-satisfaction, and watched as Celeste smirked slightly, letting out a small laugh of disbelief. After a moment of silence, mostly the rather tall blonde trying to decode the translation of Sherlock's deduction, he spoke up, "Well?"

Her hazel eyes flashed up to meet his own strangely colorless ones, and she froze, "Well, what?"

He sighed, clearly falling impatient, and then cleared his throat, "Give me a brief summary of yourself. Did I miss anything?"

Celeste grinned and shrugged yet again, "I don't see how you could of, but I guess I can hit you with a crash course of _me._"

Sherlock seemed genuinely interested, and it was rather unsettling, but Celeste took a deep breath and began, "I love art. Always have, always will. It's basically to me like drugs were to you. You know, a way to clear your mind, feel free."

Sherlock's eyes widened and he opened his mouth slightly, before closing it, and then opening it once more, "H-how do you know…" He trailed off, shaking his head and visibly swallowing.

I shrugged and shooed the idea away, "Not important, don't worry about it." Sherlock arched a brow, and, quite surprisingly, took my advice, ushering me on instead.

"Currently, I work as an animator for _Disney_. You know, creating short films, rough sketches of new characters," Celeste paused, smiled, and then went on, "That reminds me…you did, in fact, miss something."

Sherlock perked up and took a step forward, "What?"

Celeste grinned mischievously and giggled a rather girlish giggle, "I write. _Passionately_."

Sherlock raised both eyebrows this time, seeming genuinely surprised and – uniquely – impressed.

Celeste smirked in satisfaction and continued, "I have published one book, and I am currently working on the second. I have nine stories collectively, and my ultimate dream is for them to be recreated in a motion picture."

Sherlock scoffed and nodded his head, rather taken back, "How silly of me." He seemed sincerely angered with himself, "Stupid, _stupid_. That should have been staring me right in the face."

Celeste stifled a laugh, but succeeded terribly, the manner coming out more like a loud snort.  
>Sherlock watched, eyes narrowed, seemingly amused by her flustered appearance, yet oddly exasperated.<p>

"I'm sorry," She apologized weakly, and hid her face by looking down, each strand sliding to hang rather effortlessly.

When silence carried on, and Celeste was simply staring at the floor in embarrassment, Sherlock shifted, obviously uncomfortable, turning to stride toward the living room. The blonde's head shot up and she stared hopelessly. "Do you believe me?"

The consulting detective whirled around, eyes narrowed and eyebrows furrowed in a lack of comprehension. "Sorry?" He paused, "About what?"

Celeste took a few steps towards him, careful not to scare the brilliant mind off. "Me, my friends – you know, an 'alternate universe'." She waved her hands in the air, as if to put a sci-fi feel onto it, and watched as the detective smirked.

"Perhaps. There are some things you say that cause me to second-guess myself; the self that says these three women are absolute loons." He glowered at her mockingly, and she rolled her eyes before sighing rather solemnly.

With that, he approached her, standing a mere few feet from her before whispering, "_Deduce me._"

She stiffened and her eyes widened in disbelief, "I'm sorry?"

"_Deduce me._" His eyes seemed to flicker with excitement, as the smirk continued to pull at his lips. "Perhaps then, I'll believe you."

Celeste swallowed, "I can't."

"Oh, please. Don't be dull, Celeste."

Celeste scrunched up her nose at the detective, after shuddering from hearing the deep baritone say her name, and groaned, seemingly giving in. "Fine."

Her eyes shifted up to his own, and then ran down the rest of his tall figure, acting as though she were really gathering information, even when she could merely pull it from the small box in her mind that was titled, _'The Sherlock Obsession"._

"Your full name is William Sherlock Scott Holmes. You've got a brother, named Mycroft, who works for the British Government. You're in your early 30s, and you work as a consulting detective; you're the only one in the world, you invented the job. It means that when the police are out of their depth, which is always, they consult you." The blonde inhaled sharply, "You are far from amateur, as your deduction skills are impossibly brilliant," Celeste paused, "Not sure if that counts, as that's more my opinion."

Sherlock only stared. _Had she startled the great Sherlock Holmes?_

With self-gratification, she continued, "You met John Watson at Bart's, introduced by an old colleague, Mike Stamford. There, you deduced him and he was immediately drawn to you, mostly because he lives for dangerous situations. You cured his limp on the taxi driver case, which John ultimately likes to think of as the 'Study in Pink', and he shot the cabbie for you."

Celeste hesitated, thinking it best she didn't bring up the whole 'Moriarty' deal.  
>She took a glance at Sherlock's absolutely blank expression and suppressed a laugh, "From that day forward, you two remained 'flat mates'!"<br>She sprang forward happily, pleased with that idea, always content with the idea of John and Sherlock and their amazing friendship (bromance?).

Her face then fell slightly flat, yet her eyes squinted curiously at the detective.  
>Now, she began to opinionate her own thoughts and conclusions, "You are and have always been a lonely man, driven to the shadows by cruel words and the stupidity of others that frankly just, do. Not. Understand." She pronounced the words and watched as Sherlock flinched slightly. "You were able to afford the flat all by yourself, you didn't need a flat share to keep it up, but John Watson was finally a person who understood, who comprehended and appreciated your divine way of thinking." She then smiled charmingly and shrugged a soft shrug, "In which case, just so you know, so do I."<p>

Sherlock blinked, narrowed his eyes, and swallowed, highly mystified.

"So, Sherlock, when I say I am from an alternate universe, I mean it, and I hope that is proof enough to gratify the statement." Celeste let out a chuckle and sauntered past the rather distraught detective, to plummet firmly down in his leather chair.

She instantly took in the sweet smell: a sort of fresh earthy sensation, mixed with the chemical workings of a science experiment.

After at least a full minute had passed, the curly-haired man regained his courage and self-esteem, turning around to stare down the lanky blonde, sprawled out, eyes closed, on his chair.

He finally made a noise by clearing his throat and taking a step forward, "One question."

Celeste looked up expectantly, large hazel eyes adorablely gazing his way. "What's that?"

The detective swallowed and narrowed his eyes, "What is _John's_ middle name?"

Celeste grinned widely and scoffed, shaking her head in utter bliss. _This was too easy. She studied more for Sherlock episodes than half of her school tests._

"Hamish."

Sherlock's eyes widened and he smiled rather extravagantly, the magnificence of his white teeth breaking his blank features. He let out a sharp laugh, glowing in admiration and amusement, as he plopped down into John's red armchair, facing the blonde peculiarly. "Took him ages to confide in me!"

Celeste sighed lovingly and shook her head, rolling her eyes to the side, "No, Sherlock. You found his birth certificate, after quite a while of guessing."

Sherlock grinned mischievously and nodded, "So I did. I simply used my resources."

Celeste bobbed her head up and down, and fixed her position on the couch, wiggling to get comfortable in the smell of Sherlock Holmes.

"Well, that settles that."

"Sorry?" She replied to his smooth words.

"Well, that was proof enough."

She blinked and arched a brow, "Proof for what, exactly?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes and groaned, however still bemused, "I believe you."

* * *

><p><em>AN: Please, please, please leave a review!_


	6. Secret Tattoos and Side-Cases

**Sorry for the wait guys!  
>Trust me, I got yelled at by my friends for it. xD <strong>  
><strong>They were dying for chapter 6! :)<br>PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!**  
><strong>Review and follow and favorite!<strong>  
><strong>Love you all!<strong>

**Thanks for everything  
>and all the best!<strong>

**-JB**

* * *

><p><span><em><strong>Chapter 6: Secret Tattoos and Side-Cases<strong>_

* * *

><p>Bella, Eleanor and John just about flew from the bathroom, eager to take notice of their companions; a rather stubborn, and arrogant consulting detective and a highly blunt, and rather sarcastic dirty blonde. But nothing seemed out of the ordinary: Sherlock sat in his usual leather chair, laptop resting on his legs, while Celeste simply sat in John's own red sofa, legs folded as she caressed the violin in her hands.<br>John, same as the other two girls, raised his eyebrows in confusion and a rather impressive amount of suspicion.

"Sherlock," He began, but his softened features were instantly hardened when he took notice of the computer Sherlock was furiously typing on.  
>"Is that my laptop?"<p>

Sherlock didn't budge – just continued to type away.

Eleanor swallowed and glanced over at Bella, who merely shrugged.  
>Though inside, Annabelle was rooting for John in this oncoming domestic.<p>

"Of course." Sherlock stated in a grunt, causing just about everyone to raise their eyebrows in surprise – well, as surprised as they could get (this was Sherlock after all!) – except for Celeste who seemed rapidly impacted by the shimmering mahogany of the dusty violin.

"What?" John scoffed in utter disbelief, drawing nearer to his flat mate now.

"Mine was in the bedroom." Sherlock shrugged.

Eleanor suppressed a giggle, noting how he said _the bedroom_, and not _my bedroom. _Annabelle seemed to notice when she took a peek at her good friend, her face a bright flushed red and her eyes bulging in amusement. She slapped her across the shoulder and threatened her companion's mind-in-the-gutter situation with a shake of her head.

"And you couldn't be bothered to get up?" John huffed, obviously exasperated with the predicament.

Sherlock didn't bother to reply.

"It's password protected!" John exclaimed, lifting his hands in the air in utter exhaustion, and letting out a rather prolonged groan of irritation.  
>Celeste shifted oddly on the couch, while Sherlock angled his body slightly away from the laptop and toward his flat mate.<p>

"In a manner of speaking; took me less than a minute to guess yours."

Before the detective could finish, with a statement Celeste knew all too well, the dirty blonde was whirling around to stare down John with a bemused expression of both pride and surreal wisdom.

"Not exactly Fort Knox." Celeste smirked and went back to beaming at the violin, wrapped delicately in the palms of her hands, receiving a rather fascinated gaze from the detective, before John moaned in frustration and stormed over to snatch away his computer, "Right, thank you."

Eleanor and Bella stood beside each other awkwardly, eyes blinking in both uneasiness and mock. John stood uncomfortably in the middle of the living room, staring somewhat longingly at his armchair, of which Celeste currently sat on, appearing as though she wasn't influenced to move.

"Sherlock." He sighed and blinked, before glancing at the three women in his flat, two standing eerily still, and the other fiddling with violin strings. "Are we going to talk about this?"

The consulting detective scoffed and shook his head, hands steeped below his chin, in his normal prayer-like position. "Dull."

John groaned and shrugged his shoulders effortlessly, "I mean," He paused when Sherlock narrowed his eyes in confusion, and then discreetly flickered his head in the direction of the three girls.

The detective's eyes lit up and he smirked mischievously, "Oh yes. Let's, John."

John squinted in both confusion and hesitation as the curly-haired man got to his feet and jabbed a finger at the dark-skinned girl, standing still in her tight business skirt, and beautifully hemmed white dress shirt, now slightly ruffled from all the action and dirtied with faint traces of fallen blood.

"Her." He snapped, and shot up to his feet, "She's a doctor judging by the business-like appearance, and the calloused and frankly entirely bare seeming hands, meaning she washes them frequently. Not to mention, the hint of disinfectant, quite a rich smell, I know it anywhere."

His speech was spoken at the speed of light, and all three girls were frozen in disbelief, the lesser of them, Celeste, knowingly more relaxed, as she had already experienced this once. But it was still utterly incredible.

"You, same as this woman here," Celeste shivered when he pointed to her, "recently graduated from a university; I'd say you're a year older than Ms. Winchester, been friends since high school by the comfort you seem to take around both of your companions, however, you seem slightly hesitant, causing me to believe you do not live close. Long-distance friendship, then."

Annabelle blinked in utter lack of comprehension, mind officially blown.

Eleanor only grinned widely, seemingly pleased with this man's science of deduction, until he suddenly pointed to her.  
>She froze as he took a deep breath, "You. You're the same; met these two in high school. You are a year older than both, and work as a," Sherlock paused, eyes narrowing while he scoped out the woman's entire feeble stance.<p>

Clearing his throat, he nodded to himself, "_Eyes_. I'm getting _eyes_."

Eleanor bobbed her head up and down, gob-smacked, "Optometrist."

Sherlock grinned, "Precisely."

Celeste laughed at the fact that Sherlock talked to her friend like he had complete and utter control of her life – as if she could only be an optometrist if_ he_ said so.

Sherlock's colorless orbs vibrated over her once again, and this time he smirked, rather mischievously. "You have a secret tattoo."

Annabelle whirled to face her friend, eyes bulging in disbelief, while Celeste's jaw dropped to the ground, her finger tightening around the neck of the violin as she, too, turned to face the lighter blonde.

"You have a what?" Bella mused, shaking her head in utter, and genuine, shock.

Eleanor only bit her lip, eyes wide with embarrassment and regret.

"When were you going to tell us, El?" Celeste giggled, grinning wider than she thought possible at her friend's rosy red cheeks.

John was merely observing, mouth slightly open as he watched the scene play out, while Sherlock only smiled contently, turning back around to sit in his leather chair.

Eleanor groaned and shrugged irritably, "I was drunk, okay?"

Celeste burst into more obnoxious giggles, "Of course you were."

Bella tsked and shook her head in disapproval, "What is it?"

Eleanor reddened even further, shutting her eyes to hide the embarrassment.  
>"A lightning bolt."<p>

Now, Celeste was breaking out into full-blown barks of laughter. Bella couldn't help the smirk tugging at her lips ether, mostly because of how hard her friend was giggling, so much so that she had resorted to irritable hiccups.

"Like Harry Potter?" Annabelle asked with raised eyebrows, trying to keep an utterly straight face.

Celeste simply cried out in amusement.

Eleanor growled and nodded.

Sherlock was quite bemused now, watching the dirty blonde lurch over in uncontainable laughter, while John only stood observing, doing the same as Bella: trying to keep a completely straight face, and failing quite miserably.

"Oh, would you two shut it?" Eleanor groaned and rolled her eyes, crossing both arms over the length of her torso.

Annabelle shook her head, seemingly saying, 'We are not dropping this', and immediately took a deep breath to speak, "Where is it?"

When Eleanor hesitated to respond, Bella instantly regretted asking the very question, "Never mind. Forget it. I don't want to know."

Celeste was silent now, staring wide-eyed, her mouth literally hanging open as she watched El blush.  
>Then, as if on queue, she busted out into far more uncontrollable giggles.<p>

John took their ignorance as a moment to discuss the matter at hand more professionally. He planted a hand on Sherlock's shoulder, and the detective turned to face him, brows furrowed as John flinched his head toward the kitchen. Sherlock then rolled his eyes, sighed irritably, and followed the blogger into his laboratory, the counter riddled with testing tubes and beakers.

**ooo**

"What?" The consulting detective snapped impatiently, as the doctor rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Are you bloody serious?" John asked with a huff of disbelief.

Sherlock merely shrugged.

"Sherlock, we have three young women in our flat claiming that they are from another world!"

"Alternate universe."

"What?"

Sherlock grumbled, obviously agitated that he had to repeat himself. "They said they were from an alternate universe, not exactly another world."

John let out a groan of frustration, shaking his head at the nerve of his flat mate. "So what, you believe them then?"

Sherlock glanced upward and pursed his lips, seemingly attempting to shrug, yet again. "I have been convinced."

John laughed a soft laugh of bemused aggravation and leaned back to catch a glimpse of the women in his living room. The small dirty blonde was marveling over Sherlock's violin, while the taller lighter blonde stared wistfully at Sherlock's skull, and the other, the dark-skinned beauty with the brilliant charcoal black hair, stood faintly timid, taking in the appearance of her entire setting.  
>John snapped himself out of it, quite aware that he was eyeing her figure, and smiling foolishly over her shy persona.<br>Sherlock seemed to notice and smirked mischievously, aware that his doctor wasn't overly sure he wanted the three women to leave.

"Let them stay, John."

John turned to the detective with raised eyebrows, "What, really?"

"I don't see why not."

"I just thought, of all people, you wouldn't be willing to share your…well, area."

Sherlock rolled his eyes in disgust and shook his head, "John, you're making me sound pitiful."

John snorted and sighed, "Seemingly so."

Silence overtook the duo, both paying close attention to the three strangers in their flat, observing every inch of the room with a hint of utter shock.  
>Sherlock's deep baritone suddenly rang out again, jolting John from his gazing.<p>

"They will be a side-case, John."

John narrowed his eyes and shook his head in confusion, "Sorry?"

"A side-case. My own little investigation."

John took a step back at the sudden seriousness in his best mate's tone of voice. He sounded almost…sinister. Like a mad scientist with his phenomenal project. But John was used to the abnormality of the detective at this point.

"Is that the only reason you're going to let them stay?"

Sherlock was quiet.

"I mean, they could easily find an Inn to-"

"They intrigue me." Sherlock uttered, interrupting John as his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

John froze, and raised one of his own, watching the consultant with suspicious notion. The detective's eyes were not moving, per usual. Instead, they were fixed on a certain someone, and John turned to follow his line of sight, immediately finding himself staring at the tall, lanky dirty blonde, her eyes burning with passion as she continued to caress the violin strings. John leaned back in surprised, and found himself smirking goofily.

"I see." He muttered and Sherlock turned to gaze at him suspiciously.

Sherlock seemed to realize the claim at that point and immediately fell appalled by the accusation. "Don't be ridiculous, John."

John scoffed and shook his head, "Course not."  
>His sarcastic tone was unraveling, and Sherlock cleared his throat awkwardly, shrugging his shoulders at the uncomfortable situation.<p>

"We will study them, John. Find out what they know, about you and about me. What they know about our future."

John narrowed his eyes and adjusted his stance, "You think they know stuff about our future?"

Sherlock nodded, "Yes, from what I've observed. Their comfortable aura with the predicament, and easy attitudes under the circumstances."

John swallowed and grunted, "Right."

"They know too much for their own good, John. We will pry it from them. Slowly. Carefully."

John scoffed and shook his head in disbelief, "You don't have to make it sound so unsettling, Sherlock. Frankly, it's a touch disturbing."

Sherlock smirked, proud with himself and merely shrugged, yet again. "Sound like a plan?"

"What? The three of them being, as you say, a '_side case'_?"

Sherlock nodded, still grinning mischievously.

"I guess."

"Good," Sherlock swayed back toward the living room, announcing his approach to the women sitting patiently, "Meanwhile, I've got a case to attend to."

John's brows furrowed and he quickly followed the detective, who was heading toward the flat's exit.

"Whoa, wait a minute." John blurted out, as all three of the girls glanced at him in suspicion.

Celeste cocked her head to side, still stroking the violin, while Eleanor gently put down Sherlock's skull, and Annabelle stood gazing curiously.

John caught Sherlock's arm, eyes darting to the women, and then back to the detective.  
>"We can't just leave them here." His whisper was inaudible to their guests, thankfully.<p>

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "Of course we can. They're harmless."  
>His response wasn't as quiet as John's.<p>

Celeste shifted uncomfortably, while the other two simply sighed. Sherlock went to grab hold of the front door handle, before being interrupted by John, yet again. John turned to the girls with an apologetic smile and then glowered at the consulting detective, "Sherlock, where are you even going?"

Celeste finally got to her feet, setting the violin gently down, and back into its case, "I believe Sherlock needs to be at the bank, am I right?"

Eleanor smacked Celeste's shoulder, to which she instantly flinched at in irritation, and Bella eyes her with a firm glare. Sherlock blinked her way and a small, pleased smile tugged at his lips.

"Precisely," He grinned and added, "Come along, John."

Celeste dashed after the two, only to receive a menacing gaze from both men. Bella and Eleanor were both mid-stance behind their friend, each expecting to follow the duo out and into the world of London, toward a crime scene.

"No, I think you three should stay here." John shrugged politely, only to be bumped by Sherlock, glaring sternly at the three of them, eyes fixed on the dirty blonde.

"You'll only get in the way." The detective snapped, seemingly unconcerned that they may already know the answer to the upcoming scene's puzzle; merely knowing that they would slow him down.

"Will not." Eleanor spat out at the two men: John appearing ashamed, while Sherlock remained stoic.  
>Bella swallowed awkwardly in the back, eyes meeting with John's and the both of them seeming helpless.<p>

Celeste took a step forward toward the detective. They watched one another, hard gazes remaining serious for a moment before Celeste spoke.

"Fine." She simply brushed the subject away calmly, and all four of the others stared at her in disbelief, and utter confusion.

Sherlock blinked, before shaking his head and motioning John, all while pulling open the door and disappearing into the hall, only to trudge down the stairs. John stood frozen, hearing Sherlock call him out from below, which immediately jolted him from his daze.

"Right." He nodded his head to the three girls and took off after the vanishing detective.

Once the door to the flat had shut and she was sure the detective and his blogger had just exited the building below, she raced to the exit, a mischievous grin wide on her smug expression.

"Where are you going?" Bella asked, straightening out her pleated skirt, all while approaching the dirty blonde.

Celeste scoffed and shrugged, "To the bank."

Before she could open the door, Bella stopped her, eyes firm, "Celeste. Look at us. We are a mess. Our clothes are dirty, we look like we got beat up, and we don't even have shoes," She sighed and shook her head, "What makes you think we are in the right shape to go after them?"

Celeste groaned, "Come on, Bella."

Eleanor nodded and jogged over to the darker blonde, "Yeah! Come on, Bella!"

Annabelle moaned in irritation, "What if we mess something up? What if…what if we change the story of the show?"

Celeste seemed worried for a moment, taking in the good point, before shrugging yet again.  
>"We'll keep out of trouble, Bella. <em>Promise.<em>"

Eleanor nodded once more to further plead for Celeste's side of the debate. Annabelle narrowed her eyes sternly.

Celeste sighed, "Don't you want to see John again?"

It was when the dirty blonde winked that set Annabelle off, "Fine. But we need to be careful."

Eleanor fist pumped the air, and zoomed out the doorway, taking the stairs two at a time, the two girls behind her mirroring each step.

They rushed out of the building, (still cautious to making sure the duo wouldn't see them) and felt the London air, thick and cool, hitting them like a wave, as if they were on the beach again, in, home sweet home, Florida. They all breathed it in: smelling all the different smells, catching sight of all the different sights, hearing all the different sounds, and feeling every bit of emotion hidden in the atmosphere of England. They spotted Sherlock and John quickly slipping into a cab, and instantly the three girls rushed to the edge of the road, hidden from view due to the cars parked along the ledge of the sidewalk.

Celeste hailed their own cab, the motion obviously familiar to her (only from watching Sherlock), and it immediately stopped, ready to hear their quick order of a location.

Before Bella or Celeste could say a word, or a command, Eleanor was in the front seat, pointing at the cab that was off in the distance, just taking a corner.

"Follow that cab!"

Her shout merely caused the cabbie to stare at her in confusion and then shrug, nodding as he pulled off from the side of the road, and began to do as told.

Celeste and Annabelle simply stared at their friend, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief, displaying bemused expressions.

El shrugged and grinned goofily, a soft blush lacing her cheeks, "What? I've always wanted to say that."

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><p>AN: Please review! Love ya! *hugs*


	7. Matchmaking and Contemplating

**:D  
><strong>**Yes! I am moving double-time!  
><strong>**Thank you everyone who reviewed, followed, or favorited!  
><strong>**Please continue! Love you all!**

**Let me know what ya think!**  
><strong>All the best :3<strong>  
><strong>-JB<strong>

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><p><span><strong><em>Chapter 7: Matchmaking and Contemplating<em>**

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><p>Sherlock narrowed his eyes at the strange message spray-painted carefully on the white walls of the banker's office. The yellow hue was sickening, deathly. Pulling his phone from the large pocket of his blue trench coat, he snapped a few clear photos, eager to analyze them closer later. What did it mean? Why yellow? Why these specific markings? A cipher, then. But what was it trying to get across? What point was it trying to make?<p>

"Nooooo waaaaaay…" A small voice cooed from beside him, full admiration, and his eyes instantly flashed to his right, revealing a small girl, stood in her purple shirt, black tight jeans, and bare feet.

He huffed out a rather aggravated sigh, however – of course he would never admit it – he was oddly fascinated. "What are you doing here?"

Celeste grinned happily and shrugged, "Observing."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, catching sight of the other two girls slowly striding up toward him, John behind looking completely baffled.

"Oh, fantastic," The detective drawled irritably, and added the next comment with far more sarcasm than needed, "What, are we having a party?"

John scoffed from the back of the group, and almost everyone picked up on the faint blush lacing Annabelle's fair skin.

Eleanor broke the meaning behind Sherlock's frustrated remark, "Oh, we should though."

Celeste and Bella both rolled their eyes, John smiling faintly in content, while Sherlock simply shook his head and snapped a few more photos.  
>Without hesitating, the consulting detective then took off down the corridor of offices, eager to further investigate, pushing past John and the three girls, as if they were not physically there.<p>

Celeste only shrugged once more, and turned to follow; just after taking one more glance at the indoor graffiti. She observed how the line sat, dashed across the man's eyes; clearly appearing as though it was a blindfold. She laughed at the fact of it all, "The Blind Banker."  
>Celeste spoke the words just as she passed John, grinning pleasantly his way, "That's a good one for your blog, ay John?"<p>

**ooo**

Annabelle, Eleanor and John all watched from the side, sat awkwardly next to a cublice, simply staring at both Sherlock and Celeste. Personally, both Eleanor and Bella found it hilarious. They knew the extent of Celeste's love for Sherlock – there was no extent. And so watching her live out her dreams was positively wonderful – in this case, she was following the detective around the office, head ducking up multiple times to observe the angles of which the spray paint could be seen. All three girls knew Sherlock would discover it was Eddie Van Coon who was meant to receive the message, and that the message actually meant 'dead man' and that it would also result in the death of William Shad, after spotting it in a library, and Soo Lin Yao, and also that John would receive an ASBO from spray painting.

Basically they knew everything about the case.  
>But they didn't dare say a word.<br>This was one of John and Sherlock's famous cases.  
>They couldn't reveal answers.<br>Nor could they get involved.  
>Well, at least not <em>too<em> involved.

"She's like his shadow isn't she?" John scoffed, shaking his head at the two, as they hurried around the office cubicles, receiving dirty looks from the employees.

Bella snorted out a laugh and nodded, while Eleanor continued to watch, pleasantly smirking. "They have a lot more in common than you think."

Eleanor nodded at Bella's words, "Just like you and John."

And with that, the lighter blonde disappeared, stating she was going to ask _'that Sebastian bloke'_ for a coffee.  
>John cleared his throat awkwardly and smiled a nervous smile toward the darker haired girl.<p>

Bella bit her lip and giggled softly, blushing furiously, "I suppose we do have a lot in common."

John raised a brow politely, "How so?"

"For one, we're both doctors."

It seemed as though John mentally face palmed, his expression reddening and he chuckled, "Right, yeah."

"Also, just like you, I'm the designated _adult_." Bella added, grinning as she shrugged her shoulders toward him.

He narrowed his eyes and cocked his head, which looked simply adorable, "What do you mean?"

"Well, without us, where would they be?" Bella flicked her head toward the detective and his 'shadow', scampering around the office like children on a case, rather than adults.

John nodded in agreement and bellowed out a sharp laugh, "OH, yes of course."

Then they sat in silence, both staring one another in the eyes, minds mentally flustered by the intimate gaze.  
>Bella didn't get moments like this watching the show.<p>

You didn't get to look into the eyes of your favorite character, nor did you get to breathe in their smell, or feel their closeness.  
>You had to simply deal with the takes, the clips, and the images given to you.<br>But now Bella was face-to-face with that man she had literally said she loved, over and over and over and over again.  
>She could feel his warmth as he sat beside her, smell the soft scent of faded disinfectant, the rich lingering sensation of his favorite cologne.<br>She wanted more than anything to take his hand in her own, but she held back on the urge with a considerable amount of effort.

She snapped herself out of it, clearing her throat and looking down at the polished floor.  
>She had to remind herself as well: this was the episode where Sarah makes her first appearance.<br>And she can't get in the way. It was torture.

Smiling wearily to herself, she adjusted her position, just as her eyes flickered up to catch a glimpse of both Sherlock and Celeste trotting toward her.

"You ready?" John grunted as Sherlock approached him.

Bella couldn't help but smirk faintly at the scene, remembering their conversation. It was as though Sherlock was the child on the playground, tired and exhausted, approaching his father with a pout, as dad simply asked if his little ankle-biter was ready to leave.

Annabelle glanced at John and then decided to do the same, turning to Celeste with a warm smile, "All done?"

John instantly busted into a chuckle, while Bella blushed furiously and couldn't hide the wide grin sprouting across her features.  
>Celeste narrowed her eyes at the infantile treatment, same as Sherlock, and both merely nodded.<p>

At that point, Bella felt another figure grow nearer to her, and spun around to come face-to-face with a rather nonchalant Eleanor, taking a sip of her coffee and holding out a slip of paper. Bella arched a brow and gently took hold of the sheet. It was a check, messy handwriting spelling out the numbers of quite a large amount of money.

"Eleanor!" Annabelle exclaimed, and Celeste immediately tripped over towards her, straining to catch sight of the check's worth. "Why the hell did you get a check for _500 pounds_?"

Eleanor's features immediately broke into a smug grin, and she took a long drag of her coffee, before pulling it away from her mouth with a long sigh of contentment. She then flipped her hair, "I'm gorgeous; that's _why_."

Both girls blinked in confusion, and the two men standing behind them stared with narrowed eyes and furrowed brows.

She groaned, and shook her head, "The _Sebastian guy_ gave it to me."  
>She reached for her check, taking it from Bella's small fingers, and then held it close, smirking with pride, "He took a liking to my unattainable good looks."<p>

Celeste rolled her eyes, and scoffed in amusement. Annabelle couldn't help but smile, same as John.

Sherlock only kept a straight face, "Perhaps it would suit you better to be more feminine, _John_. You'd certainly make better money that way."

With that, the detective took off through the corridor of cubicles, eager to get a move on and away from the mundane conversation.  
>Celeste held back a laugh, and quickly jogged after the consultant, whose insults she found so amusing.<br>Bella simply cleared her throat, smiling hesitantly at John and then followed in a slow-paced pursuit.  
>John got up from his chair with a sigh, shaking his head in both irritation and embarrassment, and went to follow, only to be stopped by Eleanor's hand gripping tight on his stared at her in suspicion.<p>

She handed him the check with a small smirk. "Take it, _John._"

He chewed on the insides of his cheeks, and then held up both hands, "I couldn't."

Eleanor, seemingly aware how desperate he was for a good income, groaned and sighed, "_John Watson,_ take the damn check."

John's eyes widened and he reached for it, only to be stopped once more by Eleanor's sharp tone, "Wait, you have to promise me something."

John froze and shrugged, shaking his head, "_Alright..._"

El raised a brow mischievously and tucked the check gently in his palm; patting it in conclusion, "Use it to take Annabelle out to dinner. Clear?"

John leaned back, bemused by her request. He then nodded, somehow perfectly satisfied with the thought of treating the quite extraordinary, darker-haired girl to a meal out in a fancy diner.

"Crystal." He responded and grinned, closing his fingers around the paper, eyes sparkling in excitement at the idea of asking Bella, now clearly informed that she was falling for him quite profusely. Just as he turned to follow Sherlock and the other two, however, Eleanor grabbed hold of his wrist once more. He turned back, startled at her stern expression.

"_What_?"

"One more thing."

John scoffed, "You know, you are a very demanding woman."

Eleanor smirked, "Yes, I take pleasure in it."

"Let's hear it then."

Eleanor took a deep breath, "Help me play matchmaker."

"Sorry?"

The lighter blonde grinned and further explained, trying to play the role of a persuasive and sexy young woman (she really didn't need to pretend), "Your flat mate and my friend. I'm sure you want more than anything to see Sherlock succumb to a young lady. Am I right?"

John blushed and chuckled sincerely, releasing a meek, "_Yeah._"

"Someone to _order_ him around, someone he will fall _submissive_ to?"

John snorted, "That would be quite the sight."

"Well, I assure you. Celeste would be more than willing."

John raised his chin in understanding, and was suddenly grinning ridiculously, "Ah, I see."

"So?" Eleanor chimed in, smirk still present.

John nodded, "Of course I'll help you."

"Good." Eleanor let him go and John winked at her before hurrying to catch up with the others.

The blonde was ecstatic.  
>Perfect.<br>She was playing matchmaker with everyone and they didn't even realize.  
>John and Bella would be an absolutely brilliant pair.<br>Sherlock and Celeste? Two peas in a pod, if Sherlock could open up to his emotions.  
>That was her set goal, however, and she always accomplishes her goals.<p>

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><p><em>AN: Hi friends :) Lemme hear your thoughts!_


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